


The Darkest Night

by NormandyStarlight



Series: Lyla Shepard [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Mindoir, Origin Story, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormandyStarlight/pseuds/NormandyStarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Lyla Shepard survived the attack on Mindoir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Night

**Author's Note:**

> Posted as part of Mass Effect Flash Fanwork's July 2016 Theme - Beginnings.
> 
> I've had this in my head for a long time and the challenge got me motivated to finally write it! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Huge thanks to bioticsandheadshots for beta reading for me!

 

Dusk had arrived on Mindoir, the sky filled with gorgeous hues of violet, crimson, golden and blue. Pink-tinted clouds scattered across the horizon, which was truly a work of art. Stars began to twinkle in the highest points of the sky, beyond the reach of the last rays of the sun.

_He’s late._

Lyla Shepard sat on the curb outside of her ballet studio, flaxen blonde hair pulled tightly in her usual bun, dressed in her favorite practice leotard, tights, loose sweater, and leg warmers. Her brother, Hale, was home on leave from the Systems Alliance and was supposed to pick her up from practice. He was late enough that everyone from her class had gone home, and the studio was filled and humming with the junior class that came in after her. Junior in experience, that is. The dancers in Lyla’s class were all older than her; she was a prodigy and was beginning to pursue a career already, even at the young age of sixteen.

The last drops in Lyla’s mint green water bottle met her tongue. The remnants of the bottle weren’t enough to quench her thirst. She could have gone back inside to fill up her bottle, but she wanted to see her brother’s arrival. _He better get here soon._

The colony was quiet at the moment. Lyla loved the tranquility of her home world, but would rather bask in it at home with her horses after a good meal.

Tires rumbled across dirt and rock roads, screeching lightly and kicking up dust. Most people on Mindoir drove trucks, but Hale had gone and purchased a sports car. No one understood why; it wasn’t a practical vehicle, but her brother didn’t exactly need it for work either. He was an Alliance Marine, rarely home, and usually just used the car for joyriding when he was.

Lyla stood, grabbed her bags, and approached her brother’s flashy red sports car as he pulled into a nearby parking spot. He turned off the car and stepped out, arms wide to embrace her. He had just gotten home and picking her up tonight was the first he had seen her in a year. “Sorry I’m late, sis.”

Though she had been annoyed and impatient a moment ago, seeing Hale all but washed away her negative feelings. She rolled her eyes, to show that they were still lingering, but ran to embrace him. Her soft green canvas bag slung across her body and crashed against her hip as she approached him. He squeezed her tightly, lovingly, and she returned the gesture. “It’s ok. I missed you, Hale. I’m glad you’re home.”

Every time Hale left, Lyla and her parents wondered if he would return home. His job was dangerous, and now that he was out of basic training, he could potentially be in a life threatening situation on a daily basis. But thus far, he had returned home for every scheduled leave, which comforted the Shepard family. Hale was obviously never going to take over the family ranch, and neither was Lyla – their younger sister, Melanie, would be the one that fell to. Though Lyla was good with the horses, Melanie was a true “whisperer,” as they said.

A gust of wind interrupted their hug. It seemed out of place; the evening had been rather calm until now. Hale pulled away, nervously looked around and spoke in direct, stern, hushed tones to Lyla as he quietly opened the trunk to his car. “Get in,” he ordered Lyla, grasping her arm as if to help her into the cramped space. “Something isn’t right.”

Lyla furrowed her brow, pried his hand away from her arm, and took a step away from her brother. “Hale, are you alright?” Her tone was sharp, concerned, and not at all quiet.

“Shh!” He insisted, placing a finger over his mouth. Lyla tensed up defensively. Hale relaxed and rolled his eyes. “Just humor me then, ok? If I’m crazy and making this up, we can laugh about it over dinner. And I’ll clean the stalls for you tonight, ok?”

Now that was something Lyla wouldn’t argue with; a night free of horse shit. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes and crawled into the trunk, bringing her bag and water canister in with her.

“Stay quiet and don’t move until I let you out,” Hale instructed as he closed the trunk with a loud thud. The vehicle shook with the impact of the trunk, but so did the ground beneath her.   _Shutting the trunk wouldn’t be that loud...or cause the entire car to shake this much...would it? What’s going on out there?_  A sharp click met her ears – she knew the tune of a ready firearm when she heard it.

Footsteps. A stampede of fast, heavy footsteps.

“Batarians,” Hale muttered, his voice muffled by the trunk.

“He looks tough, don’t you think?” an unfamiliar voice cackled. “I’ll bet he’ll fetch a fair price as a worker.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Hale insisted, punctuated by a burst of gunfire.  

A body in the distance struck the ground.  More weapons answered Hale’s with return fire as the footsteps scattered.

“You’re not going anywhere at all then; it’s personal now, human!  An eye for an eye, as your kind says,” another voice shouted over the gunfire.

Many guns. Multiple shots. Rapid shots. A thud against the car. The deafening clatter faded.

“Balak, check the car he was standing next to. Chor, deal with Vlek’s body. The rest of you, start getting the dancers. They’re worth a lot, so try not to kill them.” The voice from before ordered.

Lyla froze. She held her breath, screams, even her tears. Soft impacts on the car, a shattered window. “Dumb kid was Systems Alliance.” The batarians laughed.

Footsteps moved away, but Lyla didn’t dare to move. She breathed as softly as she possibly could.

_This could just be Hale playing a practical joke. This is just a really bad joke, right?_

An explosion. Screams. Gunfire. Chaos. Her world sounded as if it were crumbling, falling apart outside of the trunk of her brother’s car. Familiar voices, those of her friends, shrieked and begged for death. Metal clamored; the sound of one in chains fighting. Cages closed. Ships landed. More terror. More chaos. More gunfire and cries. It continued, for how long Lyla did not know. Eventually, the screams faded. The chaos ended. The quiet of the world which once comforted Lyla now terrified her.

She didn’t dare to scream. Or move. She breathed as softly as she could, tears silently soaking her face and breast. Exhaustion took its toll.

Footsteps. Lyla shuddered awake at the sound of approaching footsteps. She froze, hoping the movement from her waking would not be noticed. Voices again, but not Hale’s. No, she wouldn’t move or speak or scream unless it was Hale’s voice she heard. One voice had an accent. British. Perhaps familiar, but maybe not. _No. Don’t say a word._

“Corporal, we’ve got a dead Marine here,” another voice said.

“Hale…” the British voice lamented.

“Sir?”

“He was from here, Mindoir. He was my friend.” There was a pause, and the man seemed to shift, perhaps lowering himself to the ground.

“Why the hell was he outside of a ballet studio?” the other soldier asked.

“Ballet? His sister, Lyla…”

Upon hearing her name, Lyla began to thrash, pound on the trunk of the car, screaming and pleading that they would hear and find her.

“See if you can find any keys!” the British voice ordered.

A moment later, the lock clicked and blinding light pierced Lyla’s eyes and safe haven.

“My god,” soft gunmetal blue eyes and an outstretched hand from the dark-haired man with the British voice met Lyla’s terrified form. “It’s ok, no one is going to harm you. It’s Lyla, right? I’m Ben. Benjamin Coats. A friend of Hale’s. Perhaps he mentioned me once.”

Lyla’s entire body shook as she slowly, hesitantly reached for the caring hand that was offered to her. Coats closed the distance between them and gingerly scooped Lyla up out of the trunk of her brother’s car. She collapsed in his arms and made the mistake of turning her tear soaked amethyst eyes toward the ground to her left.

Slumped against the car was Hale’s lifeless body, full of holes and surrounded by a pool of blood. This time, Lyla didn’t hesitate to scream.

Thankfully, someone had already closed her brother’s eyes.


End file.
